


The New Weirdness

by whichclothes



Series: Spectresverse [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-28
Updated: 2010-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:46:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichclothes/pseuds/whichclothes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>  Xander's about to be sacrificed. Guess who shows up to rescue him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New Weirdness

  
  
  
  
**Entry tags:**   
|   
[50kinkyways](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/50kinkyways), [angst_bingo](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/angst_bingo), [spectres](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spectres), [spike/xander](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander), [the new weirdness](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/tag/the%20new%20weirdness)  
  
---|---  
  
_**The New Weirdness (1/1)**_  
 **Title:**  The New Weirdness  
 **Pairing:**  Spike/Xander  
 **Rating:**  NC-17  
 **Disclaimer:**  I'm not Joss  
 **Summary:**  Xander's about to be sacrificed. Guess who shows up to rescue him.  
 **A/N:**  This is a sequel to [Spectres](http://whichclothes.livejournal.com/212691.html), but can be read on its own. Uses the [](http://community.livejournal.com/angst_bingo/profile)[**angst_bingo**](http://community.livejournal.com/angst_bingo/)  prompt "ritual sacrifice" and the [](http://community.livejournal.com/50kinkyways/profile)[**50kinkyways**](http://community.livejournal.com/50kinkyways/)  prompt "rituals."  Beta work by the wonderful [](http://silk-labyrinth.livejournal.com/profile)[**silk_labyrinth**](http://silk-labyrinth.livejournal.com/) .

 **  
The New Weirdness  
**

 

Probably the weirdest thing about Xander’s current situation was that it wasn’t especially weird at all. It was familiar, actually. He pointed this out. “Hey, guys, nothing original here. I’ve been sacrificed before. Well, almost. There was a pointy thing and stabbing, but it was pretty much sacrificus interruptus. So, you know, kinda been there, done that. Why not untie me and you can put your heads together and come up with something new? I even have a suggestion: a party! Not a single demon has ever thrown me a party. Although there were these Btemchi demons in Georgia—”

“Enough!” One of the demons roared at him. “Silence or we’ll cut your tongue out first.”

Self-preservation took over and Xander clenched his jaw.

There actually were some differences between this sacrifice and the last one. He was still the sacrificee, no difference there, and he was once again strung up in ropes that dug painfully into his skin. But this time there was more skin because instead of half-naked, these demons had wanted him to go the full monty. They’d even taken away his eye patch. As if it wasn’t enough to be on the verge of having his throat slit, this experience also had lovely shades of that dream when you’re in high school English class and you get up to write on the blackboard and realize you’ve forgotten your clothing.

Another difference was that instead of one demon who was at least pretending to be a really attractive woman, this time there were several dozen of them and they looked a little like furry fish with four arms. Not attractive.

He had no idea _why_ they wanted him dead. He wasn’t even sure if they’d been after him specifically or if he was just the first schlub who came along. All he knew was he had been walking from the front door of his shitty apartment across the parking lot towards his shitty car when several fuzzy fish-monsters grabbed him, and before he knew it he was stripped and strung up and the demons were chanting in something that sounded vaguely like the bastard child of Portuguese and Korean.

Yet another important difference: no cell phone messages to Willow this go-round. In fact, Willow was currently over 2000 miles away, doing something witchy in Helena, Montana. Or maybe just hibernating beneath the sheets with her new squeeze, Maci, who was kind of annoying but a huge improvement over Kennedy, so good for Willow. But not so good for Xander.

The fish demon who’d told Xander to shut up—he seemed to be the head fish demon because his fur was fluffier than the others’ and he was wearing a sort of beanie with a yellow pompom on top—chanted louder and started jumping up and down, waving an impressive curved knife in one hand. All the other demons jumped up and down, too. The din was enormous and his head hurt, although he knew that a headache was soon not going to be a worry anymore.

When they’d first kidnapped him, as they were bundling him into the trunk of their car, he’d had some hope that Buffy would ride to his rescue. But then he remembered that she was nowhere near either—she and Dawn and Giles were up in DC for the weekend, checking out American University. AU had offered Dawn a full-ride scholarship. Again, yay for Dawn, not so good for Xander.

You’d think he could have managed to stay out of mortal peril for one fucking weekend.

The chief demon stopped hopping and then everyone else did too, and the former department store they were in suddenly became very, very quiet. Xander didn’t like that, because at least while the monsters were jumping and yowling they weren’t killing him. But now the chief advanced toward him, its knife glinting dangerously in the fluorescent lights.

“Can’t we discuss this?” Xander said. “Maybe…. I don’t have any money or anything else that’s worth anything, but I’m pretty good with a hammer. Let me go and I can build you an addition to your house or, um, renovate your kitchen or….”

“Desculpe geonbae,” the demon said, or at least that’s what it sounded like. It lifted the blade and its followers practically _oohed_ with anticipation.

Xander squeezed his eye shut.

The blade pressed against his throat. He wondered if it would hurt very much. Maybe not. The knife had looked pretty sharp.

“Now that would be a complete waste,” said a voice from the back of the room.

Xander’s eye flew open.

The head demon swung around and so did all the others.

Spike stepped into view.

Xander could understand having hallucinations while on the verge of death. He could even understand hallucinating a savior. But why the hell was he hallucinating _Spike_ , who’d dusted three years ago? If he wasn’t about to die, he’d be having a serious discussion with his subconscious.

The imaginary Spike looked pretty much like the real one: bleached blond, lit cigarette jammed between pink lips, retro black-on-black wear, tight jeans that showed off what Xander knew were his not-inconsiderable assets. He prowled forward like Spike always did, all confidence and rolling hips, like the world was his and he intended to fight it or fuck it. Or maybe both. He kept walking past astonished demons until he stood in front of Xander, who was bound spread-eagled to a big wooden X. Spike's gaze wandered slowly from Xander’s face down his chest and then farther south and he whistled.

Xander blushed. And exactly why was he hallucinating about Spike checking him out?

“Got yourself in a bit of a pickle again, haven’t you, mate? Reckoned you might have outgrown the habit by now.”

“You’re dead,” Xander responded inanely. How was he supposed to respond to a figment of his imagination?

Spike shrugged. “Off and on.” Then he turned to the demon with the hat. “Right then. You’ve had your fun. We’ll be leaving now.”

“How dare you disrupt our sacred ceremony? You shall pay for this! Seize him!”

Nobody moved though, and even the chief seemed a little hesitant to use its knife against Spike, who was oozing menace so thickly he might as well have had a neon Danger sign flashing over his head.

Spike simply sneered. “Where do you people learn to speak like such pillocks? Watching too many films? Or perhaps there’s a Villain Correspondence Course.”

“We shall have _two_ human sacrifices tonight!” the fish demon bellowed, opening its huge mouth wide and showing toothless gums and a really disgusting tongue.

“See, there’s where you’re wrong, mate. First, I’m not human.” Spike vamped out and all the assembled demons gasped in surprise. The chief lurched back a step or two. “And second, I’m taking him with me.”

“Yeah,” Xander added, because he might as well join in his own delusion. “Find some sort of substitute sacrifice—shankbone of a lamb, crackers, KFC. All the _other_ religions are doing it.”

Spike shot him an annoyed glance. How could his own hallucination be annoyed with him? Still in gameface, Spike said, “Cut him down. Carefully.”

“I will not!” replied the demon.

Spike sighed theatrically. “Look. You picked the wrong bloke. This one’s mine.”

Okay, that was very strange, Xander thought. He’d never considered himself Spike’s before. Okay, yeah, there had been that humiliating incident back in Sunnydale that time with Dracula and the ghosts—and the kiss afterwards had been a pretty nice kiss. But then things went from bad to worse with the First and all, and there were Potentials and maiming and battles and finally flames, and nothing more had ever transpired between them. Not that Xander hadn’t wondered about it now and then over the past couple years, and there had been times when the wondering had escalated into fantasy, especially when he was alone in his bed, and—

And Xander seemed to have missed something, because the demon was lunging at Spike with the knife, and Spike was dancing just out of its reach, laughing; and the crowd was watching, fishy heads swiveling like spectators at a tennis match. “Get him!” the chief screeched. But his gang seemed more willing to tackle unsuspecting humans in parking lots than to go mano a mano with a vampire, and they just kept on watching.

The chief’s strikes were getting wilder and wilder, and Spike seemed to be enjoying the dance, letting the blade get closer and closer. Then, more by luck than anything, the knife glanced off one of Spike’s arms, slicing the leather. “Oi!” Spike yelled. “Mind the duster!” The next time the demon stabbed at him, Spike feinted to the left and ducked to the right, wrenched the knife from the creature’s hand and then, as neatly as a ballet move, sliced the monster from chest to groin. It screeched and gurgled and flopped to the floor, looking now like a giant, furry, _gutted_ fish.

The other demons practically stampeded one another as they rushed away and out the doors. Spike didn’t stop to watch the chief’s death throes. He gave Xander another epic leer and used the gory knife to cut the ropes: first the ones around his ankles and then the ones at his wrists. Xander had been tied up there for a couple of hours at that point and his legs buckled, but Spike caught him and propped him up. Spike felt very strong and…and real. Xander was kind of getting the idea that maybe he wasn’t a hallucination after all.

“Where’s your kit?” Spike asked.

“Huh?”

“Clothes, whelp. Unless you fancy driving home starkers.”

Xander pointed near the door. “Over there, I think.”

Spike half-dragged him there. Xander’s clothing was in a sad little heap. His shirt was toast—the demons had just ripped it off him—and so was his underwear, but his jeans were mostly intact; his keys and wallet were still in the pockets. He almost fell on his ass when he tried to pull them on, so Spike had to help, which was pretty embarrassing. Spike had to hold him up while he jammed his feet into his shoes, too.

When they got outside there was no sign of the demons. The air was still and muggy and felt as if a storm might be near. Moths whirled under the few lights that weren’t burned out and the clouds of midges were thick enough that Xander choked on them. Spike didn’t have to drag him far to a slightly beat-up Ford with a camper shell. He hoisted Xander into the passenger seat and then went around and climbed in beside him.

“I never figured you for a pickup truck kind of guy,” Xander said as Spike pulled out of the lot.

“Been on the road for ages. The back makes a safe spot if I get caught by sunrise.”

“Oh.” Xander was squinting through the darkness, trying to figure out where the hell they were. But he’d only lived around here for a few months and nothing looked familiar. “Um, Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it really you?”

“Who else would it be?”

“But…you _burned_. Buffy said she saw it. She said….”

“’There were these lawyer wankers and…and it’s a bloody long story. Suffice it to say death didn’t take. Spent some time with Peaches in LA and then—”

“Wait! Angel knows you’re alive? Why didn’t he say anything? I mean, Buffy was just talking to him, like a month ago.”

Spike’s jaw muscles tightened. “Haven’t seen the poof in nearly two years myself. Besides, I asked him not to say anything.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t…. Needed some time to sort some things. In my head, yeah?”

Xander could understand that. His own head was a pretty jumbled place most of the time. But that still didn’t explain everything. “What are you doing here, in Florida? I wouldn’t think the Sunshine State would be a major vamp attraction. And how did you find me?”

Spike glanced over at him. “Let’s go back to your flat first.”

That seemed fair enough. They drove in silence for a while, which gave Xander the chance to have a good look around the truck’s cab. It did kind of look like someone had been living in it—there were wadded-up cigarette packets and gas station receipts on the floor. He craned his neck to look through the glass partition, into the bed. It was dark back there and hard to make out details, but it looked like there were some crumpled blankets and a few pieces of clothing, as well as several empty booze bottles and a scattering of paperback books. Everything smelled strongly of tobacco smoke and leather and whiskey, but Xander didn’t mind. Those scents were as familiar to him as his mother’s perfume, and considerably more welcome.

Spike seemed to know where he was going. Fifteen minutes after they’d left the old store, they pulled into Xander’s lot. Spike parked right next to Xander’s Saturn and they climbed out. Xander had gathered enough strength by then to walk on his own and he led the way down the sidewalk—more bugs entering his lungs—and unlocked the door. “Come on in, Spike,” he said, and Spike did.

Sitting in the truck during the drive, Xander had pictured how things would go once they got home. He would go to the fridge and grab a cold bottle for each of them, and Spike would complain about American beer while Xander pulled on a clean shirt, and then they would collapse on Xander’s couch and there would be exposition.

Instead, as soon as the door was closed, Spike grabbed Xander’s shoulders and backed him up until Xander was squashed between wall and vampire. Xander had just a moment to wonder how Spike had lost his soul and whether being drained by a vamp was a better or worse way to die than ritual sacrifice. But then Spike’s mouth was against his, lips soft and cool, tongue tickling at the seam of Xander’s lips until Xander parted them.

Apparently, Xander was not on the menu. At least, not in a fatal sort of way.

As Spike’s tongue explored Xander’s mouth, Spike’s hands loosened their grip on his shoulders. One of them wrapped around the back of Xander’s neck, a gesture that was somehow more intimate than the kiss itself, while the other settled on Xander’s bare skin just above his hip. Spike ground his groin against Xander’s, and Xander had no doubts of Spike’s intense interest in the proceedings.

Xander, though, was still shocked. For a moment he just froze, not fighting Spike off, but not participating either. Until Spike made this sound, this indescribable needy sort of moan, and the sound traveled through Xander’s mouth to his spine and directly to his cock, which became as fully engaged in the process as Spike’s. Xander’s arms had been just hanging there, but now they sort of floated up and wrapped around Spike’s middle.

Xander was breathless and a little dizzy when Spike pulled back, disentangling them and peering at Xander with his sharp blue eyes. He was panting, though. A vampire, panting.

“Wh-what…how…what?” Xander stammered eloquently.

“A bit of a test.”

“A test? A test of what? The integrity of my tonsils?”

“Wanted to see if the thing with that tosser Dracula…if that was a fluke. Fear can do that sometimes, make a bloke hard, make him do things he wouldn’t otherwise.”

“And, and you don’t think I’m afraid now? With the kidnap and the sacrifice and the vampire mauling?”

Spike looked at him a moment and then ducked his head, seeming to shrink in on himself a little. “Right,” he said and reached for the doorknob.

Xander grabbed his arm. “Wait! You don’t get to just pop up from the dead, save my ass, kiss me, and go.”

Spike sighed heavily. “What do you want me to do, then?”

“Stay! At least long enough to explain what the hell’s going on.”

Spike nodded slowly. Then the scene Xander had originally envisioned happened, with the beverages and the shirt and the couch, although Spike just drank his beer and didn’t complain about it. When both of them had almost finished off their bottles, Xander said, “Now’s the part where you explain.”

Spike scratched at his head. “Really not much to explain. Like I said, I’ve been traveling. Driving about the country. Keeping my hand in, sorting demon problems now and then, but mostly…mostly thinking, I expect.” He was looking down at his own knees as he spoke, and not over at Xander. “I decided to find you, to…to answer some questions. Been watching you for ages, trying to….”

“To what?”

In a tiny voice, Spike said, “To get up the nerve.”

“You’ve been stalking me?”

Spike shrugged. “Not closely enough. Tonight I found your dinner in the car park where you’d dropped it—”

“Seven bucks worth of Burger King gone to waste.”

“And a few drops of your blood—gave them a bit of a struggle, didn’t you?—and the scent of those Andwin demons. Took me a while to find their hideout, but there’s a demon bar not far from here and I persuaded a few of the regulars to share info. I was bloody terrified I’d be too late.”

There was genuine anguish in his voice and it suddenly sank into Xander’s brain that Spike had come looking for _him_ , that Spike had been _worried_ about him. Somehow that managed to be the most surprising thing that had happened to Xander all night. Gently, he said, “But you weren’t too late. You saved me. You were pretty impressive about it too, for a dead guy.”

Spike let out a long, shuddering breath, then drained the last of his beer. He set the bottle down carefully on Xander’s coffee table and quirked his lips a little at the half-assembled Lego Death Star that was there. Hey, Xander was entitled to _some_ hobby aside from being attacked by monsters.

When the silence had stretched on for a while, Xander broke it. “I don’t get it. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, ‘cause really, couldn’t be happier about the saveage here. But why, Spike? Why me? I didn’t think you even liked me.”

“What I said after we left that sodding haunted house, about how I was thinking of you…I meant it. I thought of you after as well. I don’t know why. It’s only…I finally noticed you that night, I expect. Really saw you. Back then the soul was so new still, so raw inside me, like shards of glass. It’s more settled now, and I saved the world. Did some other good deeds as well. So perhaps…perhaps I’m no longer beneath you.”

One of the few times in his life, Xander was speechless.

Spike tilted his head and looked at Xander again. “Do you remember that night, you said if things hadn’t been so strange…. But things _were_ bloody strange and they stayed that way and then, well, I died and….”

“I remember,” Xander answered quietly.

“And now?” Xander was pretty sure Spike stopped breathing as he waited for Xander’s answer.

God, now. Dawn was on her way to college and Buffy was freaking and had been talking about Angel a lot lately and Giles was going through some sort of midlife crisis and Willow had been having these creepy vision things and Xander was trying to hold down a day job while getting sacrificed at night and…. Xander smiled. “Things are pretty normal, actually.”

Xander fell asleep that night with a naked, sated vampire in his arms. And the weirdest thing? Nothing about falling asleep like that felt weird at all.

 

 _  
~~~fin~~~  
_

 

 


End file.
